


Selfish

by AppleL0V3R



Series: Moments in Time: A Close Up [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Abduction, F/M, Philosophy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleL0V3R/pseuds/AppleL0V3R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>13 Sacrifice: Selfish. They both sacrificed, but not the same way.</p>
<p>Moment in Time Drabble:<br/>He’d given so much for those he loved. His whole world and then forced himself to suffer though life so that Sasuke could be a hero. He’d known ever since he was young that this was the path he would take. The one of loyalty and honor and sacrifice. </p>
<p>And then she came along. She was a giver as well but a different sort. While he broke things, she fixed them. She walked the path of loyalty, compassion and humanity. Doing what she could and accepting what she couldn’t change.</p>
<p>But she was as stubborn as she was loyal. She gave him an alternative, gave him a second chance. She was his second chance. </p>
<p>And she became the one thing he vowed to never give up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selfish

“Let me go!” Sakura exclaimed. Furious and unwilling to be some _pet_. She was a person damn it, they couldn’t keep her here! And she wasn’t going to let them either.

Emotionless, crimson eyes stared back, unaffected by the woman’s volume. He padded forward until he was only a few feet from her. She was chained to the bedpost, but even if she wasn’t she was hardly more than a declawed kitten waving her paws about. She was strong, but in her state now – chakra depleted, bruised, exhausted – she was no threat, untied or not. This just made sure she was less of a hassle, though it certainly did make her louder.

He shook his head. “You know that won’t happen.”

“Why not?” She responded immediately, grounding out her words. Again she strained against the leather bindings; they didn’t do anything more than burn into her skin, causing it to redden. She paid it no mind, too angry to care at the moment.

Again he shook his head, but this time didn’t say anything. They’d been keeping her at headquarters for nearly two weeks and had yet to tell her why she was there or where she was. Though that was more do to the fact that she had yet to do anything more than lash out when any of them were in the vicinity of her.

He’d known she was strong, that she was resilient, but this just showed how much. It was too bad she put those traits to work against them.

“Calm down first and perhaps I will tell you.” He finally answered. He would have liked to see how long she could truly hold out for. How long would her back remain ridged, her eyes alert and weary, and her words strong and biting?

Konoha was certainly doing much better about their training to have such strong, loyal shinobi. Just as he was. Or perhaps like him, she was an exception. A prodigy in her own right, since she had no shinobi background at all; it made her achievements stand out that much more. Most of his own kin would have never reached her level.

She was one of the few who would meet his eyes head on.

Vivid green eyes narrowed and she quieted as if analyzing him. He gave nothing away, gave nothing for her to find. She stayed quiet for a long while as well, but she never looked away, never changed her stance.

With her legs pulled to her chest, as if to guard her, she was in the middle of the bed; close enough to lean against the wall, but far enough to show that she didn’t need a reprieve, not from them. But even with her defiance she still ate the food she was given; she wasn’t so foolish as to think she could survive without it, nor was she eager enough to take it without question. Her hands, though restrained, had enough slack to take care of hygiene without assistance. Normally, it was Itachi giving her food and so he always took the first bite to show her it wasn’t poisoned. Medic or not, without the resources she would die just like anyone else, albeit at slower rate since the affects took longer to kick in for her. He was curious as to how that worked, most medics couldn’t do that; but it wasn’t important enough to ask and she’d see it as weakness if she answered.  

As patient as Itachi was, Madara was getting antsy, and thus the process needed to be sped up so that she could be useful. Naruto was still unaware they had her, it would still be a month an a half before her village would be looking for her. They had picked her up near the beginning of her mission so that it would give them enough time to put their plan in motion.

“Calm down?” Her voice was quiet but strained, almost disbelieving. “You really think I’ll believe that if I calm down you’ll tell me everything?” She snorted. “I’m not gullible.” This line was muttered and for the first time in the presence of another she looked away. Then she shrugged. “Why not, my way’s not working.” When she met his gaze once more, most of her emotions had been pushed back so that only the barest hints of them could be seen in serene, expecting eyes. However, she didn’t relax her body.

He was impressed. For someone who had a history of not following rule number twenty-five of the shinobi conduct, she was obviously adept at masking anything she didn’t want to show.

“Is this calm enough?”

He had the urge to push her again. It was curious how she was the only one he wanted to see more from. How he wanted to push her to the edge, and maybe over it, too. He’d never had such urges towards anyone before, not even Sasuke. He’d wanted Sasuke to be the best he could, be the hero, but had never truly pushed him.

He padded even closer, now at the edge of the bed, well within her reach. She didn’t react, not even slightly shifting as she kept her focus entirely on his eyes. He stared back with more intensity, and he nodded. “Can you stay that way?”

She sighed. “For how long? I have nowhere near as much patience as you obviously do.”

He paused to think that over. When he decided, he crouched until he was at eye level with her. Green, her eyes were very green, vastly almost. “For as long as you can.”

Those eyes narrowed and he could tell she wanted to lose her temper once more; she seemed barely able to keep it in check. “How long is that?”

She was determined, he’d give her that. As stubborn as she was loyal. “However long I want it to be.”

Then he was on his feet and out the door as it clicked solidly behind him. Her shriek of frustration followed him down the hall. He almost smirked.

* * *

Once more he was leaning against the door, out of her line of vision thanks to the candle light that didn’t quite reach him. He’d taken to liking this spot of his room in the entire three weeks that he’d been visiting her. Though he didn’t stop by on a daily basis; he had been coming more frequently since a week ago when she’d first been willing to calm down and listen. The day after that day had been the second worst since to deal with her – the first being the first day she was aware that she’d been kidnapped.

Afterwards however, she’d become more docile. No less alert, but infinitely more pleasant. At first he’d thought that defiance and strength of hers had begun to give way, but then he realized she had merely changed her tactics. Following what he had said. ‘For as long as you can’ he had told her, and so far she had survived a week.

Resilient. It was the best word to describe her.

“How long are you going to stand there?” Her nose was in a book, a medical one by the look of it. She hadn’t even so much as glanced at him.

“How long did it take you to notice me?” He tilted his head slightly, coming forward to sit on the bed. She was on the floor with her back against it; her left knee pulled up so that the text could rest against it. Her other leg was stretched out and her left arm was resting across her lap, dangling at the wrist while the other was placed palm down flat against the ground as if holding part of her weight. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, falling in front of her right shoulder. A candle was placed just centimeters in front of her hand on the ground, a tactful place to see what she was reading. He’d chosen to sit directly to her left, his own knee almost touching her shoulder.

She looked up then, craning her neck to meet his eyes, but only for a few seconds before returning to the material before her. “Long enough.”

He nodded though he knew she couldn’t see it.

“When are you going to tell me why I’m here?” She hadn’t looked up, but she was clearly no longer interested in the paper before her.

He didn’t answer; she’d taken to asking that every time she saw him by now, but he never answered.

She was as curious as a cat, he’d come to realize, interested by anything that she didn’t know or didn’t make sense, and always hungering for more knowledge. But there was the adage ‘curiosity killed the cat’ for a reason.

He changed the topic. “Why are you so loyal to Konoha?”

He, himself, had been loyal because of his brother. No matter what he’d always stuck around to help Sasuke as best he could, protecting him from the shadows.

She let her head fall back against the bed, leaving her neck wide open. Was it trust or confidence that he wouldn’t take advantage of that? “Honestly? I don’t know. It always seemed natural, I guess. Perhaps it’s not Konoha I’m loyal to, maybe it’s the people.”

He nearly blinked in surprise, not expecting such a straight forward and open answer. “Oh? So if there is no one there to be loyal to, you’ll betray Konoha?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No. I won’t betray Konoha, not for any reason. I may stray, but I won’t betray it.”

Her laugh was free, melodious. He’d never heard anything like it. His mother’s had been polite or small, concealed giggles not really showing anything more than a smile. And most of the women he knew had been the same way; if not, then they didn’t smile or they giggled constantly. Hers was nice to listen to, light and easy going.

“What’s your definition of betrayal then?”

She paused, tapping the floor with her index finger. It was something she had a habit of doing when she was thinking carefully about something. “Well, betrayal, to me, isn’t something as simple as treason. I guess betrayal is when you turn away from those who need you, knowing they need you and that you can help, but choosing not to. Or simply: when you purposely hurt someone with ill intentions.” She shrugged then, returning to her reading to allow him time to ponder her answer.

She’d just flipped the page when he responded, “If so, then most of us have betrayed each other.”

She nodded. “That’s why I don’t believe in the system. Honestly, I think the whole thing should be torn down.”

“Why? What about the missions and those you’re ordered to help.”

She closed the book and turned in her place. She put the book down in front of his feet, crossing her legs; she looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “We’re not helping.” Her voice was soft, devoid of emotion but not quite a monotone. “If we were, there wouldn’t be a reason to train us so early. Lives wouldn’t still be destroyed, both by and for the system. There should be a better way to do things. I know humans can’t go long without war, peace isn’t everlasting. But there has to be a balance, an almost perfect society.”

“Almost perfect.” He echoed, most philosophers and preachers, leaders and teachers all wanted perfection in some form or another. Perfect soldiers, perfect peace. Never almost perfect.

Still she nodded, earnestly. “Humans aren’t perfect; we’re flawed in so many ways. Hell, even our genetic make up is imperfect. So if we aren’t perfect, then how can our society be perfect?”

Never had he heard such a concept; all his life he’d been told anything less than perfect was not an option. “But humans want perfection.”

“We can’t always have what we want. That’s the reason for dreams and distant horizons. You’ll reach some of them, but because we always want more we’ll keep looking, keep going. Always looking at what’s not yet ours. And when we look back we think of all the things we’ve accomplished because at the end, we don’t want to think we’re failures.”

It made sense; there were flaws though, and perhaps that’s what she had intended. Not perfect. But wanting to be. “Is that why you’re a doctor? To change society.”

Her smile was almost rueful and she shook her head. “No, I’m a doctor because I can’t stand to see people die. Because I don’t want to be weak and helpless.”

“You help other’s for your own gain.”

Her laugh was mirthless. “We’re all selfish. I’m no exception.”

“Yes, very selfish indeed.”

* * *

Another week had passed, and she had become part of his daily life. He found they were hardly ever in agreement on anything political. Morally, they had different perspectives though not always opposing ones. He found her very cultured; where most people were blind, her eyes were wide open.

And she was still loyal to her home knowing its entire history.

Still, as the hours turned to days he found himself enjoying her company. For the first time, he wasn’t polite because he was raised to be. For the first time, he could say what he really wanted to, what he really meant. No matter how many times he reminded himself they weren’t comrades, that he shouldn’t be attached to his captive because it could never end well, he couldn’t help feeling like she wasn’t the enemy. She was someone he could say anything to, and she never held it against him. She didn’t hold grudges either, and would even do as he told her to without asking why.

But most of all, she’d begun to open his eyes too. To the world he’d shut out, and to things that had become harder and harder to face. Neither made it easy for the other; he forced her to see the ugliness of the world, and, in turn, she forced him to accept his past.

“Do you believe in second chances?” It was her who had started this conversation.

“No.” His answer was immediate and calm, more interested in the book before him than the woman staring at the rock ceiling while splaying her whole body out on the bed. So many vulnerable spots left wide open. He knew why now: because she was trusting. She believed in the concept of ‘innocent till proven guilty’. And even though he had yet to tell her why she was there, she seemed to have no trouble believing that he didn’t intend to harm her. If he did, he would have done so. And she wasn’t helpless either; if he did try, she’d fight him every step of the way.

She blinked. “That was fast,” she muttered. “Why not?”

“Because life doesn’t give second chances.”

She turned over on her side, curling her body slightly and propping her self up on one elbow, cheek in the palm of her hand, and the other with her forearm against the bed. He sat on the floor in much the position as she had been when they’d had that first conversation.

“That’s not true.”

“No?” He continued reading; one ear to her.

“Nope. If you want to be technical, Gaara died but came back to life.” At the cost of another’s. “And people die inside all the time. That’s why chances exist, so we can choose to wipe of the dust or stay down.”

“And if you choose wrong, you have to live with it. Time can’t be rewound.”

“No.” She allowed. “It can’t. But we all make mistakes.”

“Because we are imperfect.” Sometimes it was easier to go along with it.

She grinned. “Right. So we can choose to ignore them for one reason or another, and try to move on the best we can. Or we can mend those mistakes, and thus a second chance.”

He finally looked up, contemplating her answer. He turned to face her, placing and arm on the bed as he did so. Dull, black eyes gazed intently into green ones. “Does everyone deserve a second chance?”

“Yes.” Her answer was as immediate as his first one had been.

“Why?”

She pursed her lips, used to this habit of his. Turn her words on her, forcing her to think carefully through her answers. She liked it; it challenged her in ways that being a shinobi – _don’t think, just do. Your opinion doesn’t matter anyway_ – didn’t.

Her index finger on her hand against the bed started tapping.

“Because like I said, we all mess up from time to time. And everyone should be allowed to at least try to fix it. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But if you don’t try you’ll never know.” She paused as if frustrated. She wasn’t explaining it the way she wanted to, he waited patiently. She always found a way to say what she meant; what she thought, how she felt. “I don’t know how exactly to explain it, I guess it’s more like that forked road. Try again or give up. Trying again is the second chance. And life doesn’t discriminate. It’s not fair, no, but allows everyone a choice.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Well,” She ran a hand through her tussled hair. “hmm.” She was quiet once more. “Everyone should be entitled to a second chance because…because if they weren’t then why try at all? One chance isn’t enough to get it right. And the world would be darker and crueler without the chance to try again.”

He nodded. “Are you on your first or second?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, honestly. Only time will tell.”

“Am I on my first or second?”

This time she took longer before responding. “I think, in a way you’re in between your first and second, waiting for someone to...” She trailed of with a sigh. “Itachi, I don’t know how to explain this one.”

“There are a lot of lines.”

“I’m not worried about those. Lines are lines. Like rules, sometimes they have to be broken. And also like limits, they can be moved or erased entirely. You never know until you cross it.”

He didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, he kissed her; grasping her chin with his hand.

She gasped slightly, the sound swallowed by his lips. She was still for a few long moments as if unsure of what to do. He pulled away before she could. “Waiting for someone to give me another chance? Yes, I was. But I’ve already taken it.”


End file.
